


Art Boy

by somesecretstoshare



Category: Fan Girl, Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Violence, head canon, mentions of abuse, mentions of child physical/emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2122290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somesecretstoshare/pseuds/somesecretstoshare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey and Mandy Milkovich don't adjust to college life well. Mickey has a hard time trying not to fall for his roommates' best friend and Mandy has a hard time when she falls for the wrong guy, again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bro

Mickey slid his key into the lock and pushed the door open. He couldn’t believe he’d actually done it: here he was, standing in his own dorm room at the University of Chicago, which had accepted him three months prior after being wait listed. It had to be the biggest scam he’d ever pulled off. 

He took a second to consider the two sides of the room, choosing the side partially hidden by the door when you opened it. He figured that having to look it to see the whole of his bed might offer him an extra second of privacy. It also meant that the door slammed into the bottom corner of his bed when it you tried to open it all the way but he figured it was a fair trade. Throwing a large duffle bag filled with clothes and black garbage bag that held his old sheets and a towel, all his worldly possessions, onto his bed, he walked toward the window. Looking out from his 6th floor room of Meyer Hall towards he could see directly into the window of a couple girls in the building across the way, which he thought was called Dart Hall but he couldn’t be sure.

Mickey closed the curtain on his half of the window and started to unpack his minimal belongings. Thinking back to the day that Mandy had told him she was going to try to go to University, Mickey couldn’t help but laugh. She was finishing her sophomore year and her boyfriend was going away to Caltech or some shit and only reason he’d gotten in was because Mandy had filled out a bunch of applications for him. The whole thing had made her realize that she could probably go to school too, if she tried. Mickey was pretty sure she was trying to find a way to get to California herself, there wasn’t a whole lot that motivated Mandy like a shitty boyfriend did. That particular boyfriend had moved away and completely disappeared faster than even Mickey could have predicted but thankfully the idea of going to school had stuck. It became the best option for escaping their dad. Mandy had convinced Mickey to go for his GED while she was in her junior year, saying they could study together and maybe even get out together. Once he’d gotten his GED, he was surprised to discover that he was actually kind of smart and so he spent Mandy’s senior year upgrading some of his required courses while Mandy filled out their college applications. That’s how they both ended up at the University of Chicago. 

The door banged open, hitting his bed and Mickey turned around rapidly, ready to jump whoever had barged in on him.

“Hey bro, I’m Steve! You must be Mickey?”

The guy standing across from Mickey was short but well built; he looked like he could be a swimmer or something. His blonde hair was long, curly and shaggy, like he thought he was a surfer… in Illinois. Mickey was pretty sure the white-blonde streaks were actually highlights. _Highlights_ for fucks sake. Mickey sighed and shook his outstretched hand. “Yo, I took this side, hope you don’t mind.”

“No problem bro, I’ll try not to bang into your bed in the middle of the night.” Steve said as he heaved his wheeled matching luggage onto the opposite bed before turing and giving Mickey the full once-over. If he noticed Mickey’s crude finger tattoos, he didn’t mention them.

 “The form I got said you’re a freshman… no offence bro but you don’t look eighteen…”

Mickey looked at Steve, wondering if he was going to be asking these kinds of questions all year and decided to answer honestly. Maybe his rough edges would make this guy back off with the enthusiasm a bit.

“I failed out of high school” Mickey replied in his roughest voice, “took me a couple years to get my shit together.” Much to Mickey’s disappointment, Steve looked completely unfazed.

“Nice bro, well I’m a sophomore, I got the lay of the land down pretty well last year so if you need anything, let me know.” Steve’s chipper excitement seemed to build.

“Thanks… bro” Mickey replied. Steve didn’t pick up on his sarcasm. They both started to unpack their shit. Steve dove right into giving Mickey his unsolicited advice for on-campus food. “Dart has the best hangover breakfast but don’t touch their dinner” and “the StuBrew has the stupidest name for a student coffee house known to man but they train those sexy baristas up well… quality bro.”

Mickey half-listened and wondered if his new roommate would ever shut the fuck up. It hadn’t taken Mickey long to put away his clothes and make his bed, all that was left was the stack of comics he had brought with him. He decided to put them up on the corkboard above his desk; he didn’t want them to overtake the whole room, which meant pairing them down to his favourite five or six.

Mickey realized a little to late that Steve had asked him a question. He turned to face his new roommate “Sorry dude, what?” 

“I was just asking how you thought we could handle the ladies.” Steve said earnestly.

“Ladies.” Mickey replied flatly.

 “Yeah bro, I don’t want to infringe on your lady time, don’t want to interrupt anything at the worst possible moment if you know what I’m saying… and obviously vice-versa.” Steve was on a roll again, Mickey could just tell. “I mean I scammed some digits off of six freshmen during orientation, that’s three more than what I got last year. At this rate I’ll be at a healthy orientation dozen for senior year.”

 Mickey kept a blank look on his face while Steve rambled on. It was kind of hilarious actually, this guy with his sexual determination and bro’d out attitude. He looked exactly like Rocky from Rocky Horror Picture Show, innocent expressions and all. The guy hadn’t even asked Mickey his major yet (not that he’d declared) and was diving into their roommate sex etiquette.

 “So I was thinking, the old sock on the door handle is way too obvious and also, a little bit of a pain, don’t you think? I ran into some problems with it last year, a girl comes by and sees the sock and realizes she may not be your one special lady. Can only blame your roommate so many times, right? So, anyways what if I grab your number and just text you when the room is ‘occupada’ so to speak. I promise, I’ll text you an all clear afterwards too, it’s your room… you need to sleep. What do you think? When you bring your ladies back here, same goes for me bro, I’ll hang out elsewhere until I get the all clear. That work for you?”

 Mickey looked Steve over and fleetingly wondered if he called the women his slept with bro too; it was already hard for him to imagine he was capable of calling _anybody_ anything else. He also rapidly decided that this wasn’t the first person other than Mandy he’d be coming out to. He nodded his head and muttered a quiet “that works” before turning back to his comics. 

There was a knock on his door and whoever was on the other side didn’t wait before trying the handle, which made Mickey think it was Mandy, arriving early from her dorm across campus for dinner.

 Steve opened the door and let out a long , excited “Brooooooooo!”. Mickey went back to his stack, trying to find a certain strip, only half-listening to the classic straight-man hug being exchanged, double back slap and all.

 “Hey man!” the guy on the other side of the door, “how was your summer?”

 “Great! Went home and helped the old man on the farm, made some mad money on the side.” Steve said as he glanced at his new roommate. “I’ll tell you about it later… Come in, meet my roommate!”

 Mickey sighed quietly, he’d already been about as social as he could handle with Steve, he wasn’t sure he could pull off any more small talk.

 He turned to look at the new arrival and his jaw actually fell open for a few seconds before he recovered himself. He was looking at the most beautiful man he’d ever seen up close, tall, better build than Steve and a shock of red hair and when Mickey’s blue eyes met the taller boys’ green, he had to look away in order to pull himself together.

  “Mickey, this is Ian. We lived on the same floor last year but Ian has abandoned me for some sexy ladies in an off-campus apartment. Ian, meet Mickey, my new roommate.” Steve introduced them quickly as he ripped off his t-shirt and dug into his suitcase, apparently looking for something.

“You run, Mick? Ian and I like to run at least four times a week, you’re welcome to join but just to warn you, Ian is super competitive.” Steve asked as he pulled his running shoes out from bottom of his bag, half his clothes coming with them.

“No, not really big on running. I’m more of a chain smoker.” Mickey replied, keeping his eyes on Steve’s back, trying to avoid the stare he felt coming from the red head. Mickey slowly turned back to his stack of comics, finally finding the one he was looking for.

 “ _Poor Me_!” Ian exclaimed suddenly, noticing the comic strip Mickey was pinning to his cork board. “I love these, we have one on a sticker on the fridge at home.”

 Mickey couldn’t help himself, he smiled and faced Ian: looking at him full on scrambled his brain a bit but he managed to ask, “Which one?”

 Ian laughed lightly and pointed at the comic Mickey had just finished pinning to the centre of his cork board, “That one actually.”

 The comic depicted an ice cream truck with two windows, one window with a sign selling ice cream to two beat cops and the other with a sign selling pre-rolled joints to a kid who looked like he couldn’t be more than ten. There was a stack of bills at both windows and the thought bubble over both the sellers’ heads read "Poor Me".

 “My brother Lip and our neighbour Kev ran that truck for a couple summers”.  Ian explained.

 “No fucking way!” Mickey couldn’t hide his surprise. Ian looked 100% North Side in his clean  plaid shirt and he wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that he was related to Lip Gallagher, who he’d bought a couple papers from before he failed out of high school. “I've spent a healthy amount of time at the Alibi shooting the shit with Kev... that’s where I got the idea for this one!”

“Wait, you drew that?” Ian asked, clearly very surprised. Steve looked between them, totally confused; he’d lost the conversation at the mention of _Poor Me_. 

“Uh…” Mickey realized his mistake. Despite his awesome grades the past few years, having _Poor Me_ as a part of his application had likely gotten him into the University. Outside Mandy and admissions, nobody knew he was the author. He had a pretty big following online and profits from his online merch store were the only way he’d manage to afford school in the first place. His student loans covered his tuition but that was about it.  He wasn’t Banksy but he didn’t want the whole fucking world knowing he was behind _Poor Me_. “yeah… I drew that”. Mickey finished, hoping Ian had only seen a few comics through Kev.

“Fucking sweet man.” Ian nodded smiling at Mickey intensely but he thankfully let the subject drop. 

“You South Side?” Mickey couldn’t help but ask. 

“Yeah, born and raised, Canaryville.” Ian said causally. He turned to Steve, “you ready? I want to get to dinner before all the tater tots run out and they replace them with mashed disgusting.” Ian turned to the door, holding it open while he waited for Steve.

Steve threw on a shirt and shoved his feet into his runners. He looked at Mickey for a minute before he seemed to decide. “We’re going down to get dinner before our run, do you want to join?”

“Nah man, I’m meeting my sister.” Mickey declined. He almost wished he could go, just to keep talking to Ian. 

“Sister?” Steve inquired. “She hot?” 

Mickey looked Steve up and down before he responded, “No offence bro, I know we just met, but my sister would eat you alive.”

 Steve looked mildly disappointed but nodded his head and Mickey heard Ian crack up in the hallway.


	2. Whirlwind

Mickey’s course load was the standard freshman fair, especially because he hadn’t declared a major. He was fairly sure he’d breeze through his Intro to Calculus class and Mandy would help with English Lit but there was one class Mickey was actually nervous for. He’d signed up for a Visual Arts class with the infamous Professor Ferris, who was infamous for his spot-on bullshit detector. Actually, maybe he was infamous because his own work routinely sold for six figures at the best galleries in Chicago, New York and D.C.

Professor Ferris kept his first class pretty casual, he sat with his feet hanging over the edge of the desk at the front of the studio, younger than Mickey had expected, chatting to the class. He was dressed in jeans and a comfortable-looking knit sweater, tall with a mess of light brown curls sticking straight out of his head, Cosmo Kramer hair, Mickey thought as his professor meandered through the class syllabus. If you’d asked Mickey, there was a lot of bullshit flying out of Ferris’ mouth; crap about perennial issues in a visual field, form being studied as a means to communicate context… most of it was lost on Mickey. The whole speech seemed incredibly self-indulgent.

Mickey’s nerves were further disrupted when the Professor mentioned that they would be doing group critiques of each other’s work in class. Mickey’s comics had never been critiqued, unless you counted the trolls on the internet, which Mickey didn’t. He couldn’t imagine any of his uptight North Side classmates understanding _Poor Me_.  At the end of class, Ferris laid out their first assignment: they were to each create a piece of work that they felt best reflected who they were as an artist, their personal style and present it in the next class. Mickey was overwhelmed and doubted he’d finish the assignment, let alone pass the class. The idea of presenting “who he was” to a mirror let alone to a room full of strangers was so absurd, it was comical.

 

* * *

 

After the class had finished, Mickey started to head back to his dorm when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He couldn’t help but laugh as he rolled his eyes, as he read the text from Steve and the entire message was made out of emojis; a banana, a doughnut and thumbs up sign, Steve’s special way of letting Mickey know that the room was “occupada”. Mickey had been living with Steve for a week and this was the second time he’d gotten the warning text, which all things considered left Mickey mildly impressed. It also helped that Steve had only spent two nights in their room so far and both texts had come midday. Mickey could put up with the 45-minute wait (which he assumed covered foreplay, main event and post-coitus recovery time) for the “all clear” when his roommate was shacking up elsewhere most of the time.

Mickey paused for a second and then quickly typed out a message to Mandy:

            _Steve’s in emoji heaven again, you have time to meet me at the Union?_

Mandy’s reply was instant:

_That little slut! Just about free, meet you at StuBrew in 30!_

Mickey smoked two cigarettes consecutively as he walked over to the Union and found a seat in the large café facing the quad. It was actually not bad, for a douchey hipster hangout. The wifi was strong and the chairs were the perfect blend of comfort and support for longer study sessions. Mickey didn’t have anything with him he could study so he opened the sketchbook he’d taken to his Visual Arts class. He was trying to figure out what “reflected his personal style” when the barista approached him.

“You going to order anything?” the girl asked him irritably, clearly ready to throw Mickey out the instant he said no. “This isn’t study hall, there is plenty of free space outside.” She pointed to the rows of study carrousels and tables lined up against the Student Union windows outside of StuBrew.

“I’m just waiting for my sister, we’ll order when she gets here.” Mickey explained.

The barista sighed, apparently trying to make a decision. She was short and the only word Mickey had on hand to describe her was voluptuous.  She was also smokin’ hot in a way that Mickey hadn’t seen before. She looked totally put-together with a unique fashion sense that complimented her abundant body shape and she was wearing a vibrant colour of lipstick that suited her perfectly. There was something in the way she held herself, full of confidence and demanding respect that threw Mickey so he was kind of nervous while he waited for his verdict to come down.

She glanced down at the half-filled page of Mickey’s sketchbook and then back at Mickey. Then back to the sketchbook.

“Is that a Mars Investigations logo you’ve doodled in your notebook?” She asked, looking back at Mickey once more.

Mickey looked down, realizing it was. He nodded his head and scribbled a quick LoVe across the top of the blank page opposite. She laughed, which sounded more like a witches cackle.

“You can stay” the barista said. “Sorry, I’m off shift in 15 minutes and for some reason my boss makes me clear out the free-loading riffraff before I finish my shifts”.

“I can see why, you had me ready to tinkle and run.” Mickey joked.

“Did you just say tinkle?”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Mickey blushed. The barista’s cackle came out louder than before and a few people turned to look at them.

“I’m Casey, Assistant Manager and tinkle master.” She said by way of introduction, thankfully not offering her hand to Mickey to shake.

“Mickey… equal parts charmed and terrified.” He responded, which brought back Casey’s laugh.

“Mickey… always nice to meet another Marshmallow but I have got to say, you may be the last person on earth I’d pick to be a fan.”

“Little sister” Mickey explained shortly. Casey nodded and surprised Mickey by taking a seat across from him.

“I’m exhausted, eight hours on my feet. I’d kind of forgotten what this place was like when there’s actually students on campus.” Casey said as she put her feet up on the third chair at the round table. “Mind if I kill some of my shift here? As Assistant Manager, it’s important that I ‘mingle with the clientele.’”

She’d said the last bit with so much displeasure in her voice that Mickey was already nodding when she finished.

“I’ve never done well in jobs where I have to be around people” Mickey said, “even when my sole purpose was to make people uncomfortable as a security guard, it never lasted long.”

“Yeah, well I need this job to last. Mama needs her gas money” Casey sighed, “but you better believe these hipster fools will be getting an earful on my last day.”

He laughed lightly and then looked down at his notebook. He really wasn’t big on small chat, he was better suited for short and not-so-sweet conversations. Mickey racked his brain for something else to say, Casey seemed cook but he was wondering what the hell she wanted from him.

Mickey glanced up at the entrance looking for Mandy and saw a flash of red hair behind one of the display racks. He couldn’t help but crane his neck a little more to see if the hair belonged to Ian. He’d seen his roommates’ friend a few times since they first met, each time Ian was coming to meet Steve, for a run or for dinner. Mickey couldn’t figure out how Ian was eating in the residence food halls while he was living off-campus but he also hadn’t bothered to ask. Each time Steve and Ian started to leave, Steve glanced over at Mickey and invited him to join them and each time, Mickey declined. He didn’t want to feed the massive crush he was developing: it didn’t seem like a good way to survive a year living with Steve. Mickey hadn’t allowed himself to entertain the fact that Ian might be gay, knowing his ability to spot a homo was notoriously awful and he didn’t want to make that mistake with someone he’d be seeing all the time.

Mickey realized the guy he was practically standing to see was too short to be Ian and looked back at Casey. Her head had swiveled to where Mickey was looking and she turned back with a smile on her face. “Gingers, huh? Got the red fever too? There is nothing sexier to me than an alien-looking carrot top” she quipped easily. “That boy doesn’t have enough meat on his bones for me though, and he’s not doing it for you either you judging by the disappointed look on your face.”

Mickey looked at Casey sharply, trying to decipher what she meant. Nobody, not one person had ever looked at Mickey and immediately thought “gay”. He’d actually had to show Mandy his secret porn stash before she believed him completely. It is something he took a strange amount of pride in.

“What did you just say?” Mickey spat out at Casey.

She didn’t even miss a beat, didn’t even take a slight pause as if to consider him a threat. It was another first for Mickey.

“Veronica Mars, red hair, and good looking boys… three things we both adore” she said confidently. After Mickey sat frozen for a good half a minute just staring at her, she giggled, leaving her earnest cackle behind and asked, already knowing the answer, “right?”

Mickey looked at this girl, someone he’d just met, who had sized him up in minutes better than his family had in decades. He replied quietly “and coffee… I’m guessing.”

Casey nodded and smiled. “Yup, coffee too. Speaking of which, let me get you some. What do you drink? I’ll get something for your sister too…” She was standing waiting for Mickey’s order.

“Ummm, a medium mocha for me and uhhhh… Mandy will want something with caramel in it.” Mickey replied.

Casey was behind the bar and almost finished making their drinks before Mickey had started breathing normally again, he was stunned; he’d just come out to a complete stranger. He’d only come out to Mandy last summer, otherwise he’d been guarding that secret like it was his most prized possession. Growing up in Terry Milkovich’s house made fear a normal consequence of life for each of his siblings but growing up gay in Terry Milkovich’s house was a whole other level of terror.

Mickey was pulled back to reality when his phone buzzed on the table, it was Steve again:

            _mission successful bro, thx_

Even in his current shell-shocked state, Mickey shook his head as he noted the time: a quickie by anyone’s standards.

Casey came back to the table to drop off his drinks. She smiled at him like he was any other customer as she started to take off her apron.

“Well, that’s the end of my shift. Thanks for killing off the last couple minutes for me.”

Mickey managed a meek smile and a nod. “Thanks for the drinks” he said stupidly. “Really” he added after she didn’t respond.

“You should stop by tomorrow, around one, maybe? I’ll take my break and hang out. I’d like to look through that sketchbook of yours, see what’s coming up next for _Poor Me_.”

That did it.  Mickey was completely, totally, and unbelievably floored. He must of looked it too because Casey took pity on him and leaned in to explain just this one thing.

“I’m a Visual Arts major and I’ve been following your stuff for years. I’d recognize your style from a sketch of a smiley face.”

Casey paused for a moment and then, knowing the answer asked, “Tomorrow?”

Mickey nodded “Yeah, okay. One o’clock, tomorrow, that works.”

“Good” Casey said smiling and looking up. “Oh look, your sister is here”.

Mickey looked across the café at the entrance and waved at Mandy to get her attention. He didn’t realize until Casey had walked out the side exit of the the café and halfway across the quad, that she had no way of knowing what Mandy looked like.  

Mandy dumped her bags on the seat Casey had just vacated and reached for the cup of coffee Mickey indicated was hers.

“Hey! Thanks for the coffee. I’m fucking tired.” Mandy said as she took a sip. “Mmmm, this is incredible, what is it?”

“Dunno sorry, just asked for something with caramel” Mickey replied. “Why are you so tired?”

“Orientation! Dorm Parties! Dudes! College is exhausting, Mick!” Mandy said with enthusiasm. Mickey hadn’t volunteered to take part in any of those activities and had declined the few times Mandy had texted him to join her. His sister looked over at him as if to read his mind. “It’s college Mickey, I never thought I’d get here, you know I’m gonna live it up!”

Mickey smiled weakly at her; they were so different in some ways. Mickey couldn’t imagine himself at a party with a bunch of freshmen, he already felt decades older than them. His life had done that to him, always worrying about his dad and about Mandy and about money. He loved getting so messed up all his problems disappeared but Mickey couldn’t imagine enjoying losing himself when he was surrounded by the idiots from his classes and his dorm floor.

“Good to see you’re having fun.” Mickey said earnestly. “Just hope that you’re doing the whole class, homework, study thing as well.”

“Uuuh duh, I’m not going to blow it now that I’m here.” Mandy replied exasperated. “So tell me about your classes, has Steve said anything extra stupid lately? I have to meet him, I just keep picturing Rocky Horror in Carhartt.”

“That’s basically it,” Mickey laughed “he has John Deere sheets.” Mandy cracked up at the mental picture.

“So… classes?” Mandy pressed.

“Hmmm, calculus and bio are both going to be a breeze. Same with history I think but English Lit is going to be a problem; I didn’t even know that Frankenstein wasn’t the monster but the monster’s creator.” Mickey summarized for her.

“What about art?” Mandy asked, typically getting right to the thing Mickey was hoping to avoid.

“Just came from there actually.” Mickey said and he handed over his sketchbook with the notes he’d jotted down for his first assignment. Mandy looked them over and let out a low whistle.

“Who you are as an artist? You’re personal style? You are fucked, my brother.”

“I know. The shittiest part is that we have to stand up in class and fucking talk about what we do. I already accidently told my roommates’ best friend that I created _Poor Me_ and then the random barista with perfect fucking gay-dar figured it out by just glancing at my sketchbook. I’ve had about enough of outing myself to strangers.” Mickey ranted.

Mandy’s eyes grew wide and she took a minute to process the whole outburst.

“Wait, back up. Start with the barista with the gay-dar.” Mickey could tell she was worried about him. He was so protective of that secret, she knew he must be freaking out.

“She just knew. I must have started to soften already” Mickey practically whined. “I gotta get my ass back to the South Side stat.”

“Where is she? Is she here? I’ll talk to her” Mickey had to pull Mandy back down into her chair.

“She’s gone.” Mickey said, looking right at Mandy. “Look I’m fine… no big deal, she seemed cool. I’m going to come by tomorrow to talk to her.”

“Okay… if you’re sure.” Mandy leaned back in her chair and paused for a minute before continuing. “So… Steve’s friend?”

Mickey looked across the quad and mumbled “Again, not a huge deal, I guess. He’s South Side… fuckin’ recognized one of the strips on my wall. Seems cool.”

“Uh huh, so why are you staring out at the fucking trees?”

Mickey pulled his face together in an effort to look as indifferent as possible and reluctantly faced Mandy full on. “Really. it’s fine Mands.”

Mandy looked right back at him, studying his face carefully and Mickey felt his façade crack just a bit. He had never mastered the ability to keep it together when he was trying to hide something from his sister. Slowly, a devious smile blossomed on her face and Mickey felt his face go red. 

“OH MY GOD!” She bellowed. Mickey instantly broke eye contact and looked around at the people who’d started looking over at them. “You’ve got it _bad_ , Mick! Don’t even try to deny it, I can see it written all over your fucking face!”

“Will you keep it the fuck down please, Mandy?” he begged as he nodded at the group of guys at the next table.

“Fine!” Mandy said as she rolled her eyes “tell me everything!”

“Jesus, there isn’t anything to tell. He’s Steve’s workout buddy or some shit so he’s always coming by our room.” Mickey leaned in closer to Mandy before continuing. “I have no idea what his deal is but he’s South Side and I’m not risking anything if it means it could get back to Terry.”

Mandy huffed and looked over her brothers’ face one more time. “Okay, okay, I’ll drop it. However, I do need to get my ass over to Meyer Hall more often if there’s this much fine ass on display.”

“Come by now, room’s free. Have dinner with me?” Mickey suggested.

“Can’t I have to get going actually.” Mandy said and she checked the time on Mickey’s phone while Mickey gulped down the last of his coffee. “Have to get to the first Ski Club meeting of the year.”

Mickey choked on his cold coffee and spewed some across the table in Mandy’s direction.

“Wait, what? Did you just fucking say Ski Club?” Mickey asked as he mopped up his chin.

“Yes… Don’t laugh at me! There is this smokin’ guy on my floor, Greg, he's president of the Ski Club and I figured the best way to get to know him is to join.”

Mickey could not contain himself, he was almost crying he was laughing so hard. “Mandy on a bunny hill!” he exclaimed as he wiped his eyes. “You are going to shatter every fucking bone in your body!”

“I’m not actually going to go to Aspen or wherever their trip is! I’m just going to spend some quality time planning the trip with Greg. Talking about all the fancy tricks I can do… they just won’t have anything to do with a ski hill.” Mandy looked pretty pleased with herself.

“Gross. Well, good luck with that stalker.” Mickey was used to Mandy’s schemes when it came to boys but he had to hand it to her, she always got her way.

“We can do dinner together tomorrow.” Mandy suggested as they stood up to leave. “Aubrey and I are going to this Sigma Pi party after, you should come!“

“I’ll do dinner but I’ll leave the frat boy hunt to you and your roommate.”

“At least think about it Mick, you gotta have some fun.” she pleaded before she slammed into Mickey for a brief hug. She walked a few steps away before turning around and flipping him off. He grinned and flashed her his middle finger in return.

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey dug his hand into his jean pocket as he got of the elevator on his floor, searching for his keys. As he pulled them out, he glanced up at his door halfway down the hall and stopped. Sitting outside his door was Ian Gallagher, long legs blocking the majority of the corridor, headphones in as he listened to music on his phone, judging by the slight nodding of his head. Mickey was about to turn back around when he saw Ian glance up at him and smile, taking his headphones out and standing up.

“Hey man” Ian called to Mickey as the older boy started walking towards him. “Was supposed to meet Steve, he just texted saying he’s walking a lady friend home and will be a while.”

Mickey nodded dumbly and fumbled to find the right key.

“Can I come in and wait?” Ian asked as Mickey slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open.

“Yeah, sure. I guess” Mickey responded. Ian walked past him into the room and Mickey could smell his soap as he went by. Cursing himself for even noticing, Mickey followed the taller boy inside the room and dumped his sketchbook onto his bed. Noticing that Ian had made himself comfortable on Steve’s bed, taking of his shoes and leaning against the wall, Mickey walked to the furthest point he could get from Ian and scooted up onto the window ledge.

Ian scrambled to his feet and crossed the room to Mickey, peering out the window.

“Man, Steve told me he could see into some girls room across the way! I thought he must have dragged out his binoculars but you totally can just see into that room!” Ian laughed. “I’ll have to tell him to put up a sign with his number, get their attention.”

Mickey observed Ian out of the corner of his eye as he turned away from the window and sat down next to Mickey on the ledge. He worked to divide his focus between taking in Ian’s profile and keeping his breathing steady, which was not an easy task. Ian had his arms crossed over his defined chest and was looking down with a half-smile. It was a few more moments before Mickey realized they were getting dangerously close to an awkward silence.

“So, uh what are you…” Mickey started but was interrupted by Ian.

“How are you settling in?” The red head asked, glancing at Mickey. “Oh sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing man… uh, yeah, it’s good. Busy.” Mickey muttered.

“You’re a freshman, right? Steve said you’re a freshman.”

“Yup, brand new. You?” Mickey was pretty proud of himself for managing to return the simple question, which was pretty pathetic.

“Sophomore…” Ian replied and then they were quiet again.

With a stroke of genius, Mickey asked another question. “What’s your major?”

“Theatre and Performance”

“So… acting?” Mickey was surprised; he didn’t know that was something you could major in.

“Yeah, well that’s what I want to do. But this year is shaping up to be a lot like last year. A lot of back stage tech work , dance and voice classes but not a lot of actual performing. They tell us repeatedly it’s the best way to build a good foundation.”

“That sounds like what my art professor was going on about today, I didn’t get most of it.”

Ian laughed and looked down at the dark haired boy, “So your major is art?”

Mickey looked across the room at the door, for the sake of his sanity. Ian’s eyes were so intense, he couldn’t focus when he was looking directly at him. “Undeclared. I’m thinking Visual Arts major though. That’s if I if I manage to pass this class.”

“Why wouldn’t you pass? You’re stuff is amazing!” Ian was up and moving towards Mickey’s desk to look at the comic covering his corkboard.  “I was on your website last night, I loved the newest comic you-“ Ian had stopped mid-sentence, looking embarrassed. He looked down and backed up a bit from Mickey, realizing he was teeming him in between the desk and the window. Mickey’s breath had caught in his throat.

Bang!

Steve barreled into the room, the door hitting Mickey’s bed as he entered. Ian backed up completely and sat back down on Steve’s tractor sheets.

“Yo! Mickey, my man! Thanks for steering clear this afternoon, let me tell you it is greatly appreciated!”

Mickey glanced at Ian and nodded his head.

Ian flew off the bed “Oh my god, did I seriously just sit on the wet spot?” He was spinning around in circles wiping at his ass. Steve and Mickey burst out laughing as they watched his erratic dance.

“Bro, you’re fine, we were against the door.” Steve said. Mickey shuddered and made a mental note to wipe down all surfaces on a regular basis. “You ready to run?” Steve asked Ian.

“Yeah, sure.” Ian responded, gingerly returning to Steve’s bed to put his shoes back on.

“You sure you don’t want to join us one of these days, Mick?” Steve asked as he dug around the bottom of his closet for his water bottle.

“I’m good, thanks”

“Alright. Let’s go then bro” Steve said, going through door. Ian held it open, pausing for a moment before turning to look at Mickey.

“See ya later… Mick” he said and a secsond later he was gone too.

Mickey sat on the window ledge for quite a while thinking. He wasn’t sure if he was thankful for Steve or if he wanted to cut him in the middle of the night.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is a mix of my own AU and the book Fan Girl by Rainbow Rowell. Go read it!  
> This update came a lot faster than I expected but certainly won't be the norm.  
> Find me on tumblr at somesecretstoshare.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a mash up of my own AU and the book Fan Girl by Rainbow Rowell, which is a great read, especially for fan fic readers. The plot is loosely based on that book. First multi-chapter fic so please leave criticism/critiques! Also, the character Steve is based off of my own college roommate, so get ready for that ride.


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